Dear Diary,

Note to self: schedule a spa day for the day after I kill the fuck out of the fucker down in Norfolk.

Seriously. Adrenaline, it's a hell of a drug. I've developed my pain tolerance to the point where literal death is inconvenient, but the kind of things you do to put someone down in a fight, especially the deliberately painful ones? They're sorta designed to break through that. But once the 'fuck you all' meter is full, the adrenaline hits, and then it's full on old school green hulk mode. The more you hurt me, the less I feel it. Makes me wonder if somehow that threshold somehow taps me into Mimic's adrenaline, kind of like me going all non-Blendy in M-Space taps me into her Mana.

Before anybody makes any stupid comments, and yes I know that's mostly likely to be me, the shit you do in a fight to take someone out of it is just not My Kind of Pain. Wrong flavor. Does not fit my face. That's only really important the day after, though, because aches? Yeah, they're just pain jerky. Doesn't hit as hard, but it can have some funky additional flavors, and the base is just a refined, and more importantly longer lasting version of the original stuff. Way longer lasting. Seriously, Extra ain't got shit on aches. So, y'know, day after Epic Marie Makeouts? Yeah, kinda low key bliss all day long. Day after fighting some asshole trying to hurt me to death? Like, y'know, today?

Suck. All the suck. All the bad kind of suck, all at once.

Worst part? The biggest suck of all is from one I did to myself after the fight when all my mad on teamed up with my stupid.

Okay so yesterday, as I lay there clenching my jaw so hard it hurt, all the bits of me that would normally react to Saffron being her breast, I mean breast, I meant to say breast... fuck it, her hottest self? Decided to flash constantly intensifying 'out of service' signals, as if to say, 'stop looking at her, you dumb bitch'. Of course I'm sure anyone with a pulse can guess exactly how I responded to my own naughty bits trying to bonk me with the horny bat like an over eager Shiba Inu. "Fuuucck." I groaned, trying to squirm around to get a peek to confirm that what Saffron dropped to start the fight was, in fact, the underwear she'd been wearing.

Yeah, I get to see it sans everything on the regular when we're getting dressed. Occasionally an up close view for a variety of reasons. But I'd like to point out that the folks that somehow think that 'being married' equates to 'being bored of your spouse' are, in fact, fucking morons. Cretins, even. The presence of concealing, semi-concealing, or best of all nearly completely concealing fabric that me getting an angle to see past would just have her rolling her eyes with an affectionate snort for my eternal horndog nature? Just added to the allure.

Unfortunately, she'd decided to put the Marshall back together first. Now, that entertained my juvenile ass for about sixty seconds while she turned his crotch from 'bizarre bio-sculpture of melted and re-solidified flesh' into 'naughty-bits, boy type', since as always healing Mana Blade wounds produced a blinding glow while the magic healed them. Look, I know I'm boring, but I like what I like. I will absolutely lust over the same woman, laugh at the same joke, and giggle uncontrollably at the same live-action Anime crotch censoring glow every goddamned time.

Once that was done, though, I realized that with her crouched down like that, would literally have to crawl on my back under Glowing Midnight's skirts to confirm my Kitten's partially commando state, and while I absolutely would do that, she'd go on about 'manners' and 'public' and 'gravitas' and 'disrupting the Marshalls' Healing' and, me being me and her being her, 'doing that when I have other things I have to pay attention to'. Right about then, though, I got a brilliant idea. Whatever that little black fabric triangle was, I still saw it fluttering on the paver where she'd dropped it. After moving about six inches, in a fucked up crawl, with way more body parts joining in on the 'stop moving you dumb bitch' bandwagon, I decided to take the easy route and Translocate over to it.

Pain seared through my thigh, shutting off most of my higher brain functions, leaving me running entirely on 'stubborn bitch will do exactly what pain say no do'. I poured Mana into my Translocation, because all evidence to the contrary the stubbornest, probably stupidest part of my brain decided that was the best way to get the job done. I say 'probably stupidest', because the part of my brain that decided on 'check to see if that scrap of cloth is Saffron's panties or not' absolutely refused to give up on the whole idea as a bad deal. The more Mana I poured in, the more it hurt. Right about when Saffron's shout of, "what are you doing?" finally seeped through into my brain, something that sounded like the world's messiest fart and felt like I'd tried using a live concussion grenade as an anal bead blasted a fan of Tabitha all over the courtyard in front of me.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I blinked, pushed my head up enough to see the fluttering fabric lying under me, reached for it, then got reminded that gravity is a thing, and without my hand holding me up, Mr. Paver and Ms. Nose's passionate embrace would not be denied. I think what pissed me off the most at that point? Sniffing fabric with a nose full of blood is pretty fuckin' useless. No fuckin idea what part of my brain took over next, but when Saffron finally looked down at me, giving me that affectionate exasperated eyeroll, headshake, smile combo? I rolled my head just to the side and confirmed that even though I couldn't tell by tasting them with my case of severe post injury dry mouth, they were indeed my Kitten's former panties of the day.

What can I tell you? I'm a dumb bitch with a stubborn streak wider than the Atlantic, but I know what I like.

"Tabitha?"

I shoved the fabric to the side of my mouth with my tongue and said, "yeth?"

"First, let me congratulate you for being the first person to conclusively prove that application of enough Mana will in fact denature Cold Iron."

"Thath wah I did?"

She sighed and nodded. "Since there is a spray of mixed black pudding, shredded meat, and cooling Mana neutral Iron across your former location in the Yard, I would say yes, that is exactly what you did."

"Yay. Go me." That didn't seem to be adequate. "Ow?" Yeah, that was the word. "Ow." I whined that one word into a drawn ought eight syllables before Saffron stepped over me, tapped the back of my head with the tip of her toe, then hopped off the Infirmary cot onto the floor.

"Sister Siobhan?"

"Oh sweet Canta what happened!"

"You heard there was a duel between the Marshall and Tabitha scheduled today?"

Sister Siobhan gasped. "He did this?"

Glowing Midnight's fabric rustled. "Some of the wounds, yes, but Tabitha exacerbated the hip wound herself. I can provide Heal Injury and extra Mana, but I'd like you to collaborate with any additional required Healing spells, and perhaps confer with Canta regarding the effects of Cold Iron poisoning on Mana Shaping?"

A deeply suspicious tone colored the Sister's next question. "What did she do?"

"She forgot about a Cold Iron Dagger she'd stabbed herself with, which Marshall duBois subsequently embedded deeply into her thigh. She tried to Translocate with it so embedded, and when her Translocate failed to Shape properly, poured Mana into the shape until the Cold Iron melted. Some of it even vaporized, I think. The water in her thigh definitely did."

"I don't know whether to praise the Gods that she survived, or swear at her for her recklessness."

Saffron sighed. "A situation I'm all too familiar with, Sister. On an ever more frequent basis I find myself thanking Mimic for keeping her alive while trying not to throttle her."

"Mi, mim, mi, mimi, Mimic...?"

"Yes. My Goddess, of whom I am High Priestess. She seems to favor Tabitha's continued survival. If not seeing fit to bless her with the wisdom to survive in an undamaged manner."

I'd been enjoying the sound of their voices enough with my head on the Infirmary pillow, but at that point the fear in Siobhan's voice and the affectionate exasperation in Saffron's teamed up to push my 'neuron activation' button. If I'd thought before that my body parts were imitating a Shiba Inu with a whiffle ball bat? They'd now upped the ante to a Great Dane with an aluminum softball bat. "Ladiesh? Shisha Shawwan?"

My side flickered with tingles as they turned their attention to me. "Yes, Tabitha?" replied Siobhan.

"Coma?"

Saffron snorted, Siobhan said, "of course," and I don't remember anything after that.

Woke up in Marie's bed, light streaming through the window, Isnomi discussing something earnestly with Vulcan, Saffron sitting at her desk working on something Mana Shaping related, but with a couple tomes propped in front of her as well. I stared up at the ceiling, gradually working my way through all my muscles and joints, flexing them to see if they seemed to be working, intact, and in fact present. Once I realized that all of me was in fact in attendance, not to mention protesting any attempt to move it, I said, "hey Menace?"

She hover-handed Vulcan's case, then bounced over to me. "Yeth?"

"Wanna go gliding?"

"YETH!"

I pushed myself to my feet, got Isnomi's hang glider down, then turned to Saffron, who'd been watching me with an indulgent grin the whole time. "You wanna come with? I really need a headrest." I stared at her chest, not just to make my point clear, but because as I've noted, I like staring at her. Saffron priddy, me likey.

She huffed. "I have things I need to be working on."

I gave her my best puppy dog eyes, getting some reinforcement on that from Menace. "Please?" After a second of her glowering, I said, "Thighs?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you're going to be the one watching her. I've still got work to do."

Which is how I wound up spending from mid-morning until sunset lying on the roof, watching Menace practice her unpowered aerobatics, my head pillowed on Saffron's lap, my everything aching just enough to know it hadn't forgiven me yet.

Good day, regardless.